Poetic Stories
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Where is the girlthe little one who came to tell me stories. Where is the boythe tall one who sat beneath my shadows to rest before heading home.
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I walk past a restaurantMy feet pause as my eyes snagOn a pale-yellow 3D triangleWith a crusty base andA soft looking cake.
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Okay, so, I’m obsessed with food. I love food, I love eating and I love talking about food and eating. Since #BlogchatterFoodFest is all about celebrating food, I thought this year, I’ll write odes to some of my favourite food items. Starting with: nariyal ki barfi.
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Little bird, little birdHush, don’t make faces nowDo you want your face to be stuck in that mask?
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This is for the strong onesWho are standing with a sword and shield held aloftDressed in armourWaiting for a fight that has long been over.
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If I had to choose betweenreading or writingI would choose you readingFor all the joy and solace I find with youof discovering my next readLike a kid in a candy store.
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It is night.The utensils are clean, and the kitchen has been put to right.The phone is silentEven the city beyond her windows is silent…There is no sound of drill, or horns, or the bustle of people going here, going there.The only sound in the room is the soft whirring of the AC and the distant
tales of Suchita 